


The March Mistletoe Of Alexis Hill

by SlutWriter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bully Fuck, Cock Cleaning, Cum Inflation, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Excessive Semen, F/M, Humiliation, Hung Shota, Lactation, MILF, Physical Abuse, Rimming, Smegma, Son Cuck, Tit-Punching, Watersports, foreskin, huge penis, huge tits, ntr, piss drinking, r-word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23316568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlutWriter/pseuds/SlutWriter
Summary: 39-year-old MILF Alexis Hill is a world-class ditz, and very forgetful, so much that she has Christmas decorations up in late March. When her son's bully, Robin, arrives and demands a kiss under the mistletoe, she can't help but oblige! The forceful act awakens motherly feelings that snowball in the lewdest way imaginable, much to the dismay of her wimpy son, Tim.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

39-year-old mother Alexis Hill was famous in her neighborhood for two things - being a world-class ditz, and having absolutely massive breasts. She was as forgetful as her breasts were large, which was to say  _ extremely;  _ eighth-grader friends of her perpetually-embarrassed son Tim were not only treated to her blouse-stretching mammaries swaying to and fro as she puttered busily around the house but also the often-hilarious evidence of her terrible memory and lack of common sense. 

She was hopeless at following recipes, useless for helping with math homework, and had taken the family SUV into the mechanic, claiming it no longer worked, only to find that she had neglected to put gas in it. Twice. There were whispers around town that the reason she’d gotten divorced was that she’d been dating other men on the side, having forgotten she was married. While the truth wasn’t quite so extreme, information tended to pass through one good-natured ear and out the other without finding any purchase on her brain. 

Alexis had been planning to take down the Christmas decorations at her two-story home on Nybolt Street for over two months, but with the chill air of March still whistling in the eaves, there were still lights framing the front of the house and a rather forlorn light-up Santa display tucked in the corner of the front porch. He’d been unplugged, but mischievous kids in the neighborhood sometimes plugged him back in for a laugh, since he let loose at audible “Ho Ho Ho!” five minutes or so. Inside the house, a needle-denuded tree was still sitting on a blanket in the corner of the living room, and mistletoe was dangling jauntily above the front foyer.

Alexis, who wore glasses and had a habit of squinting with confusion through the lenses at difficulties brought on by her chronic lack of concentration, took these late Christmas trappings and all other impediments in stride. As she told Tim, who would be starting high school the next year, it was important to “not sweat the small stuff”. So if she forgot to turn the oven on and dinner wasn’t ready, or she forgot to take dinner out of the oven and it was burned, or the car wasn’t running again because she hadn’t changed the oil in several years, it was really nothing to worry about. 

Tim, a more level-headed boy who could actually remember things, wasn’t so sure. He had sandy brown hair like his mother, who gave him haircuts herself when she remembered, which wasn’t often. Sometimes he saw her vacuuming merrily away without the filter installed or having forgotten to empty the bag, to little effect. She put sodas in the freezer to cool and then forgot about them until they exploded. Once, she had volunteered to drive him and three other boys to a campsite in Northern Michigan and ended up in Canada. When the border agent asked her if she had anything to declare, she talked to him for five minutes about her thoughts on the latest episode of  _ The Bachelor _ .

He had no shortage of school friends who wanted to come over to hang out, play video games, and horse around in the backyard, but he’d started to suspect it was because his mother always greeted his new pals with big, grasping hugs that caused their faces to totally disappear into her cleavage. He had never seen a woman with breasts as large as his mother, except perhaps for some extremely obese ones, but Alexis Hill was far from obese. She had a trim waist, slender limbs, shapely legs, and kept herself well-groomed and primly dressed in blouses, skirts, pantyhose, and heels. The blouses had to be nearly tent-like in size due to her obscene bust, it was true, but she didn’t intentionally dress to draw attention to her bust. 

Tim had overheard them talking about being hugged by his mom, describing the sensation as being “smothered by big, warm marshmallows”, with the conversation then proceeding to a discussion of how Alexis’ enormous, raised nipples were actually comparable in size to the whole breasts of other women. Then there were the jokes that some kids made at school, putting basketballs in their shirts and walking around, saying “Look, I’m Mrs. Hill!” This always left Tim red in the face; as the sad truth was that the basketballs were actually smaller than his mom’s enormous, expansive natural jugs, which were so big she typically just laid them on the table when sitting or on the counter when standing.

When Alexis got wind of any difficulties that Tim was having at school, she always tried to help him out earnestly, but occasionally these well-meaning responses only made situations worse. If she showed up at school to try to support him, invariably this drew the eye of every horny pubescent kid on the playground, especially the 8th graders, and Tim could count on a barrage of boob-related jokes being sent his way. He wasn’t much good at sports, and if he tripped at youth soccer or fell down running the bases at Little League, his overprotective mother was always pressed right up against the chain link fence, her eyes wide, crying out that he was  _ very delicate _ and that the umpires should do something about the more talented kids. On such occasions, her huge breasts would always smoosh into the chain link and bulge a bit through the diamond-shaped holes, a criss-cross pattern of boobmeat that looked like it had been pressed into a waffle iron. 

Once, when Tim had hurt his ankle on the soccer field, she’d knelt down to cradle his sore foot, weeping about a grievous injury and how she was going to kiss his boo-boo and make it all better, in full view of all of the other players. Tim, blushing red with embarrassment, had tried to shoo her away, but had stumbled backwards, resulting in his shorts falling down when his mom grabbed them to steady him. This had done about as much for his reputation at school as you’d expect, and for weeks, older boys were punching him in the shoulder and telling him that his big-juggs mom could come pull their shorts down any old time.

It was that quality of earnest over-reaction to any injury that made Tim loathe to come home and face the music on this particular day. He’d been in a fight at school - and not just any fight. A fight with a kid three grades before him, a fight he’d still managed to lose. Tim always went out of his way to avoid physical confrontations. He was a quiet boy, not physically gifted, and rather delicate in both features and shape. Now, he had a black eye, a bruise on his forehead, and a split lip after ‘standing up for himself’ as he’d heard one was supposed to do in the face of teasing.

He closed the front door softly, settling it into the jamb, not wanting his mother to know he’d arrived. He could hear her in the kitchen - mixing away at some recipe or another that she’d no doubt forget half the ingredients for. He looked forlornly up at the stupid mistletoe that was still hanging from the ceiling in the entryway, and had been for months. When was she going to take it down? Even this long-forgotten decoration had been a source of embarrassment for him, as when some friends had come to pick him up to help build a snow fort, his mother had made a point of forcing him to smooch her cheek goodbye, while also telling him that he’d be having his first real kiss soon enough… all in earshot of his waiting chums.

“I know you aren’t very popular with girls and haven’t had your first kiss yet,” his mother had said, “but I just know you’re going to grow another three inches this year and sprout right up! Oh, my handsome little man!” She had pointed to her cheek and refused to allow him to leave until he kissed her.

The sound of laughter from the front stoop had been mortifying. 

Tim had an idea that his mother was doting on him extra hard because she felt guilty about the divorce. He just wished she wasn’t so bad at it, and constantly embarrassing him with her attempts at support. He was dreading telling her about the fight, envisioning an accusatory call between parents, or worse.  _ How dare your son lay a hand on my delicate Tim, he’s terrible at fighting _ , or something similar. He could imagine her saying it already.

Furthermore, the person he had fought against would really complicate matters. No, it was best not to mention it, hope the swelling would go down, and-

_ Creeeak _ .

He was betrayed by the front stair. His shoulders slumped as the wood echoed through the house and he heard his mother put down her mixing spoon. She had meant to get the creaky stair fixed, of course, but had forgotten… and he had no doubt that she would probably forget about the mixing bowl altogether as well. 

Her voice chirped from the kitchen. “Tim! Tim, is that you? You’re home so late!” He heard the clack of her heels moving over hardwood and did his best to stand up straight and look confident as possible. Maybe he could bullshit her into thinking he’d won the fight, or-

As Alexis rounded the corner and beheld her beaten son, her face immediately became a mask of angry concern. “Tim! Who did this to you?” she asked, rushing forward to take his chin in her hands and move it side to side, examining his split lip and bruised cheeks. Her breasts loomed in her green blouse like humpback whales surfacing to breathe, and they were right near his face, too. But Tim felt anything but titillated, considering the situation.

“Nothing. It’s alright, mom. It’s-”

“Those other boys should know you can’t fight! They should pick on someone their own size!” Alexis went on, her voice picking up speed. “Why, this one really beat you badly! It must have not even been close. A boy like you, don’t they know you have no muscle and Doctor Vayne says you have problems with hand-eye coordination and lack of adolescent development?”

Tim let out a great sigh. “Mom, it’s no big-”

“I’m going to write a letter!” she said, righteously. “I’ll post it at your school so everyone knows you’re delicate, a late-bloomer, and shouldn’t be touched!”

“No!” Tim quickly assured her, trying anything he could think of to avoid getting further ‘help’ from her. “We were just horsing around, and-”

“What? Roughhousing? Tim, with your constitution-”

“Yeah, uh… with a friend. It was an accident.” He offered a shit-eating grin and winced from the pain, hoping to hell she would forget about asking who the boy had been. God knew, she forget enough other things. But God, as with so many other social situations in his life, was not on his side.

“I want to know this boy’s name immediately,” Alexis said, pushing her glasses up her nose and then placing her hands on Tim’s shoulders. “He should know that dangerous roughhousing is no laughing matter.”

Tim winced again and sighed. He had been dreading this. “It was…Robin,” he admitted.

His mother raised her meticulously-plucked eyebrows. “Robin!” she repeated. And any hopes that she might forget who Robin was were quickly dashed when she said: “The new boy in the neighborhood? I was just over at his mother’s house! We were planning meals for that pot luck charity dinner.”

“Y-yeah,” Tim said, and then grasped for a way to avoid his mother getting involved. “We’re kinda friends, and I guess we just got too rough.”

This was an absolute lie. Tim  _ hated _ Robin, who was nine years old, with the passion of a zillion suns. The little bastard was the most obnoxious, brash, annoying little kid he’d ever encountered, and in just a couple months had rallied the other fifth graders into one big squad that he used to play pranks on Tim at every opportunity. The older boy found this to be a rather mortifying reminder of his social standing. Normally, fifth-graders held the eight-graders in something like awe. So to have a bunch of little brats showing him no reverence whatsoever, and, indeed, gleefully calling him a homo, bitch, and shithead at Robin’s behest, had made the last month a real drag.

“Well,” Alexis said. “I suppose that’s alright then.” Her face was thoughtful, and Tim’s heart leapt as he realized there was a chance she might let the situation rest without an embarrassing phone call. He dared to exhale and let his anxiety level drop… until his mom spoke up again.

“Actually, it’s a good thing you two are good chums,” she went on, “because I volunteered to look after him while his mother returns to Europe to see to the burial of her great grandfather.”

Tim’s swollen face immediately turned to a mask of surprise and grief. “Look after him!?” he gasped. “Robin?”

Alexis nodded. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s only for a few days, and I’m sure the two of you will get along just fine,” she assured, rising to stand straight and put her hands on her hips. Her breasts loomed in his face like fat, fleshy torpedos that seemed ready to burst out of her blouse at any moment.

“But he’s… he’s…” Tim’s voice trailed off. After claiming to be Robin’s friend, he could find no lie that would fit. He had no choice but to come clean. “He’s the  _ worst _ !” he cried, balling his fists. His mother’s face immediately became confused, and so he elaborated with a full explanation of his initial lies, and the truth of the matter - that 9-year-old Robin was a verbally abusive, bullying, conniving little bastard who marshalled all the forces of the fifth grade to pick on him. And when Tim had tried to confront the shorter, younger boy… Robin had punched him right in the face and called him a  _ faggot _ and a  _ bitch _ in front of everyone.

Alexis’ eyes grew wider and wider as she heard the whole story. When Tim was finished desperately relating it, panting from the exertion of gesticulating and making his feelings known, he put a finger to her chin. “Well,” she said. “It would be unneighborly of me to call his mother and cancel! He’s coming over tomorrow evening, after all, and her flights are all planned!”

“Mom!”

She smiled her airhead smile and put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry! I’m sure you boys will grow to be the best of friends while Robin is staying here!” She smooshed him in a brief, boob-filled hug as he stared off into space in disbelief.

Post-hug, Tim stood silently with his mouth open. Then, overwhelmed by how bad it had all gone, he clapped his hands over his ears and ran up the stairs. Robin, that little devil… at his house for  _ three whole days _ ! A whole  _ weekend _ ! 

Things couldn’t get worse. Could they?

* * *

Tim’s bruises hadn’t completely healed by the time Robin was dropped off for his visit. He stayed inside in the foyer, and heard the muted sounds of his mother making brief discussion with Robin’s mom before she was to leave for the airport. His eyes drifted closed as he steeled himself to make the best of a bad situation. He was dressed in a tee shirt, jeans, and in spite of his hatred of Robin, had done his best to leave nothing in his appearance for the boy to ridicule.

The doorknob turned and the front door creaked open. Two sets of steps - one adult and clacking, one child-sized and stomping - rang through the house.

“You still have your Christmas decorations up?” came an aggressive, bratty voice, one Tim would have recognized anywhere. “Are you fucking retarded, lady? It’s the middle of March.”

Yep, that was Robin alright. Tim opened his eyes to see his arch-nemesis, a short, wirey, agile boy with a crop of messy blonde hair and pale blue eyes that seemed merciless to Tim. He was dressed in a black tee shirt and a pair of skinny jeans with distressed knees; not the sort that came from playing but the sort that expensive brands put there to look ‘authentic’. The tight fit of the jeans contributed to Robin’s graceful, sprightly look. He had thin limbs and was pretty short, but Tim knew from experience that Robin was quick and could pack a punch, despite standing only up his mother’s waist, a head shorter than the older boy.

“Oh my!” Alexis tittered, putting a hand to her face in an ‘oh, I’m so forgetful’ gesture and giggling. “I’ve been meaning to take those down.” And tittering was certainly the right word for what she was doing, because her short laugh made her blouse-wrapped boobs bounce and sway hypnotically. Today she was wearing a crimson blouse with a plunging neckline that revealed so much cleavage, it looked like the boys could just lay down in it like a sleeping bag and zip themselves in.

“I guess all your brains must be in your chest, huh?” Robin replied, and Tim’s astonishment only grew when his mother only laughed as if this were the funniest joke in the world, causing her boobs to jiggle even more.

She bent over in front of Robin and chided him as if he were just a little rascal. “Oh, now, Robin, you shouldn’t say such things!” It was the only reproachment she offered, but the boy just ignored her and pointed again up to the mistletoe. 

“That’s mistletoe, right? Doesn’t that mean you have to kiss me?” Robin suggested, looking like the cat who caught the canary, smug in a fortress of his own elementary-school cleverness. To his mind, obviously, the rule about mistletoe was as ironclad as a Supreme Court decision. Tim waited for his mother to laugh it off… but was astounded and dismayed to actually see her  _ blush _ .

“Oh, my! Such a handsome little man wants to kiss me?” she teased, and then bent further forward and offered her cheek. She was wearing gold hoop earrings and had her lips done up with a pale pink gloss. Behind her sexy MILF glasses her eyelashes were so long and seductive they looked almost to be scraping the lenses. This alone lend an uncomfortably sexual tension to the proceedings, at least in Tim’s mind. He watched as Robin stood on tiptoe in his runners, planted one hand on Alexis’ shoulders, and then made a show of directing her to be exactly under the mistletoe.

Then, as he was directing, his hand found her cheek and turned her head toward him. Robin leaned and kissed Alexis full on, turning an planned innocent cheek-peck into a sloppy, open-mouthed makeout session!

Both Alexis and Tim had the same reaction- eyes going wide with surprise. “Mmm… mmmph… mmmmmhg!” Alexis moaned, and she tried to gently disengage, but Robin had looped his hands around her neck and was keeping her in place. Her knees trembled. Tim saw Robin’s mouth moving, saw his cheeks fluttering as he drove his tongue deep into the much older woman’s mouth and started probing around. He even heard the slimy, meaty sound of their tongues intertwining.

Alexis began to look dazed as she was powerfully kissed by her new houseguest. It was a kiss filled with invasive, probing, dominating passion, unencumbered by any sort of decorum or guilt - the kiss of a child who takes the toy he wants to play with, even if another boy is using it. Her cheeks flushed, and an absurd and sinful thought filled her head… she hadn’t been kissed with such passion, such desire, since her divorce. Indeed, the bonfire of her sexuality had been doused for months!

Her tongue acted on its own accord, moving to tangle with Robin’s smaller one and making louder, wetter noises between them as breath seethed out of her nose. And between her legs… it was like a river overflowing its banks down there! She felt a throbbing in her loins that had long been absent and so much lubrication was being produced that she was soaking her panties! Kissing had grown complicated as her marriage deteriorated, but this was a welcome return to simpler times! She could feel Robin’s tongue licking hers, probing her mouth, doing circles, exploring her as he liked… and…

“Nnnngh!” she moaned. Her eyes rolled back a little. Robin withdrew a little but his tongue was still extended… and she pursed her lips around that nine year-old kid’s tongue and started sucking and worshiping it! Her mouth stretched into a lewd, cocksucking cone shape as she began to bob her head slowly forward and back, slurping that tongue lewdly, taking it eagerly into her mouth, then mashing her tongue together with it as their faces returned to pressing against each other even harder. Her knees trembled and she collapsed to a kneeling position.

“Mom!” Tim cried. “What the heck are you doing?” But part of him knew exactly what was going on. He’s been seeing some weird stuff in his mom’s reading and viewing habits since his dad moved out. Lots of sappy romantic stuff. And he’s overheard phone calls where she was talking to her older sister - his aunt - and confessing that she had certain needs that weren’t being met. But even so - he’s never thought she would act like this!

“Nnnngh!” Alexis moaned again, looking sideways at Time. Guilt filled her face and at least, she braced her fingers hands against Robin’s collarbone and pushed him gently but firmly away. Their mouths broke apart and in the split second when they did, Tim saw her tongue and Robin’s tongue entwined and sliding over each other, leaving a big, fat strand of glistening saliva between them that stretched, then broke, flopping down to leave a glistening stand on his mom’s cleavage. “Oh my! I’m sorry, Tim - I just got into the holiday spirit!”

“Heh, it’s almost Easter you dumb cow,” Robin said, and wiped his mouth with satisfaction, before turning to Tim. “What do you think of that, nerd? Your mom is a super-good kisser!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. “She just didn’t want to be rude, that’s all.” He wasn’t even sure he believed it himself.

Meanwhile, Alexis was standing up, dusting off her pantyhose, and shaking a scolding finger at Robin again. “Now, now - you mustn’t call people names, Robin,” she chided. “It’s not very nice to make fun of Tim or say that he looks like a geek and a loser, or say he’s a big wimp.”

“Just forget it, ma,” Tim mumbled, his shoulders slumping.

“Soon, Tim will have kissed his first girl too and you’ll be on even ground,” Alexis said, and Tim slapped his palm to his forehead.

“Mom, you’re not helping.”

“He’ll probably kiss a guy instead since he’s really gay,” Robin quipped, crossing his arms.

“If he does, that’s alright too,” Alexis went on, eyes closed, with her finger outstretched in her lecturing way. “If Tim is gay it doesn’t make me love him any less.”

“Ha!” Robin laughed. “Your mom thinks you’re a big homo!” He grinned wide, bright, even teeth that seemed pronounced in the canines.

“I’m  _ not gay _ !” Tim insisted, raising his voice and throwing up his hands with exasperation. But Robin didn’t even show him enough regard to listen to his objections before turning away and addressing his mother with a rather insistent tug on her skirt. 

“What’s for dinner, lady? I’m hungry!” Robin said. And again, Tim watched as his mother, who would have responded to his own nagging about dinner with good-natured dismissal, act as indulged and possible. Her cheeks were flushed, in fact, and her entire mood seemed strange. It was like the strange kiss under the long-overhung mistletoe had performed a sort of alchemy, transforming her into a far more pliable adult.

“Oh, aren’t you a ravenous one?” she said playfully. “Come with me to the kitchen and I’ll fix you a nice dinner.” Then, amazingly, she took Robin by the hand and began to lead the boy away, without sparing Tim a further glance. After a moment’s astonishment, the 13-year-old jolted from his stupor and followed them.

* * *

Tim was on the edge of his seat all dinner, watching his mom and Robin like a hawk, waiting for the other shoe to drop with the behavior of their houseguest. His mother seemed to be enjoying having a more lively meal; since the divorce she’s remarked repeatedly that the house seemed rather empty. Alexis had to audible to macaroni and cheese to go with steamed veggies in garlic sauce - she’d forgotten to turn the heat off under her stew and reduced it down to nothing - but luckily, Robin seemed just fine with pasta out of a box.

The younger boy ate ravenously and without reservation, and Alexis seemed to watch him with satisfaction, which annoyed Tim to no end. He only picked at his food, waiting for Robin to say something rude and reveal what a little jerk he was, but whether out of slyness or just because his mouth was full, the precocious blonde boy didn’t speak once until he’d cleaned his plate.

“Oh my! You must have been hungry,” Alexis remarked, clasping her hands together on top of her enormous chest. Because of the immense size of her bust, she tended to eat with her plate off to one side and her tits resting on the table in front of her, where a normally-proportioned person would put their setting and utensils. 

Robin let out a short burp and then nodded. “I gotta eat lots of food if I’m gonna be a boxer,” the boy replied, and then threw a series of shadowboxing punches at the air. “My dad got me a heavy-bag for Christmas. Have you got one of those?”

“No, I’m afraid we don’t have any boxing equipment,” Alexis said, gently. “With Tim’s delicate composition-”

“Mom, for Pete’s sake,” Tim sighed, over a forkful of macaroni. 

“You know you have trouble with physical exercises, dear. Remember when you joined that karate class and quit because of your fallen arches?” She smiled sweetly at him, showing that she wasn’t judgmental about it. To her, Tim’s lack of physical prowess was something she’d accepted long ago. However, she continued to talk about it, much to his constant embarrassment.

“Yeah, Tim would probably get beat up real bad,” Robin assessed, and then waved his plate. With an expectant look on his face. “Gimme some more macaroni!”

Alexis pushed back from her chair and took the plate. As he boobs disengaged from the tabletop and bounced, it was like watching mountains move or giant waves undulate on the open sea. Despite Robin’s rudeness she wasn’t scolding him at all. It seemed she was determined to indulge him as a houseguest.    
  
“We have the guest room all set up for you,” she said to Robin, returning with another heaping plate and setting it before the boy. As she bent over to do so, her enormous crevasse of cleavage was right at his eye level, and despite his tender age he looked on with obvious interest. 

“I want to sleep in your bed!” Robin said, suddenly, and Tim coughed and choked on the forkful of macaroni he’d been eating. 

It seemed for a moment that Alexis blushed red, but she quickly regained her composure. “Oh, well, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she stammered. “Don’t you want your own nice, big, comfy bed?”

“That’s dumb anyway!” Tim spoke up, exasperated enough that it had loosened his tongue. “Only babies want to sleep with their parents.”

“She’s not my parents, she’s  _ your _ parents, stupid!” Robin shot back, and he loaded up a forkful of macaroni and used his utensil as a catapult, flinging it at Tim.

“Boys! Stop it!” Alexis said, raising her voice for the first time. “You shouldn’t argue. You go to the same school, you should be acting like friends!” Tim wiped the macaroni and cheese sauce from his shirt and Robin crossed his arms in a huff, looking sulky and petulant in his diminutive way. They stayed silent as Alexis sat back down and then gradually resumed eating.

It was perhaps a minute later when Alexis spoke up. “If you have a nightmare during the night, or you get scared because you’re staying in a new place, you can come and see me,” she told Robin. The boy gave her a vulnerable look that Tim was one-hundred-percent sure was fake.

“Thanks, Missus Hill,” Robin said. Then the corner of his mouth curled up into a little smile, revealing those bratty, pointy canine teeth as he shot Tim a glance that all but said  _ look at how I’m charming your dumb cow-tits mom _ . Tim, still wearing the fading bruises from when the younger boy had punched him in the face, felt a shudder go down his spine. He resolved to find a way to make his mother - who was known to be well-meaning but extremely oblivious - to see Robin’s true colors.

Tim ate the rest of his meal in silence. Robin had seconds and then thirds; and Alexis watched him eat with the satisfaction inherent with preparing a meal and having a guest thoroughly enjoy it. She was happy to be cooking for more than two people again, it seemed, and dismissed the lewd kiss that she and Robin had shared to the back of her mind - nothing but the rambunctious enthusiasm of a hyperactive boy who had gotten into the late Christmas spirit.

* * *

Though few people had ever seen it but her ex-husband, the sight of Alexis Hill preparing for bed was like nothing else. First, she unbuttoned her skirt and removed it, revealing medium-coverage black panties that contrasted sublimely with the pale sheen of her flawless skin. Next was her blouse, which she pulled off over her head with difficulty. The sheer size of her large, bulging breasts created a bottleneck around the bottom of the garment for a moment before she was able to pull the fabric up and over. Her breasts fell and bounced together with an audible clap, jiggling for several seconds before coming to rest. When free of clothing and a bra, they were large enough that the bottom of each was parallel with her navel, with the raised, porous nipples turned slightly wall-eyed.

Next, she would sit on the bed next to her night stand and apply skin cream to her face, neck, arms, and every bit of her breasts. Her own flesh moved with supple and rippling ease, pouring between her fingers. The task took two or three minutes, and her eyes were particularly distant on this night, thinking about their new houseguest and how peculiar the young boy seemed; how different from her son Tim. The kiss under the mistletoe, and her reaction to it, had caught her by surprise. She hadn’t really been kissed by a man, or received any male interest, since her separation and divorce. Sure, there were the usual gawkers and leering boors, but they hardly counted. Robin, with his youth and unvarnished eagerness, was something different.

“Oh my,” she exhaled to herself, feeling her nipples harden beneath her fingers as she brushed skin cream near them. Her nipple were so large that when they started to harden, the nibs were as large as the giant marshmallows she and Tim had once roasted around a campfire. She rose, undid her ponytail and shook her luxurious hair free, for a moment looking wild and beautiful, and then removed her glasses to complete the effect. It made her look five years younger - perhaps ten - and then it was time, clad only in her panties, to produce and don her nightgown from the bedside drawer. It was frilly, roomy (it had to be, considering her enormous boobs) and went down approximately to her knee.

Only once this flower-printed whitish-blue gown was in place did Alexis lay down on the bed and consider the slow rotations of her ceiling fan as she slid her body beneath the covers. After shutting off the lights via a bedside switch, she lay back… and found herself unable to sleep for a moment. There was something she was feeling inside her that she couldn’t quite put her finger on… or perhaps didn’t want to admit. Her hands, unbidden, slid to move over her nipples - each as large as her palm - and she gasped silently to find wetness there. She was actually lactating!

This wasn’t the first time this had happened - occasionally she had bouts of out-of-nowhere lactation triggered by something as simple as hearing a crying baby at the grocery store. But the cause of this particular instance seemed clear - the arrival of nine-year-old Robin and all of his youthful energy! Tim was growing up - he had just turned thirteen - and would be going off to high school in just a few short years. Lately, he had been resisting all of her attempts to dote on him - the concerned phone calls to the school, the worrying about injuries he suffered, the protective precautions she insisted he take because of his fragile constitution. It was the only way she knew how to treat him, but it seemed he was no longer interested! 

She was aching to do some mothering… to nurture a boy and take care of all his needs!   
  
“Oh, goodness!” she hissed, biting her lower lip. Her hand closed around the elongated, swollen tip of her left nipple and squeezed, and she felt wetness dribble over her thumb… but also a jolt of pleasure. She was so sensitive at times like this! And with all the stress of raising a son and the divorce, who could blame her if she needed a little release. Her mind, set on this goal, wandered back to earlier in the day when Robin had just arrived. Even though he was just an elementary-schooler, he’d driven his tongue into her mouth and held her in place! It was like he’d willed her to kiss him as he liked, in contrast to Tim who whined and pouted when he didn’t get what he wanted in any particular endeavor - snacks, toys, allowance money.

Her thumb slid over the silk pearl of her clit, throbbing and firm against the front of her panties. She gasped… and then heard the turn of the master bedroom doorknob! Fast as she could, she put her hands flat against the bed and tried to control her breathing, which had been growing more and more lurid-sounding. The door creaked open and she heard footfalls, immediately recalling Robin’s request at dinner - that he sleep in her bed. She took a breath, rose to one elbow and looked.

It was him, alright - a boy in his boxer-briefs, standing barefoot and bare-chested in her bedroom, golden hair spiked around his ears, pale eyes gleaming like silver coins. Without his jeans and shirt she was able to take in more of his physique and saw how different it was from Tim; even though Robin was three-and-a-half years younger he had a hungry, orphan sleekness that was pleasing to the eye. His underwear, which were composed of Spiderman comic panels, were riding low on his hips and she could see the sharp cut of his iliac and the cute roundness of his hips and bottom. And there was something else, though it was hard to see in the shadows. The bulge in the area of Robin’s crotch seemed very large, as if it were carrying a serious volume of balls and cock within. This, of course, shocked Alexis most of all - it was the sort of swaggering, banana-smuggling bulge you’d see on a cocksure, thong-wearing musclehead, not a young boy. Her son Tim hadn’t developed at all yet, and she’d told him to be patient and that he was just a late bloomer.

Robin, it seemed, was an  _ early _ bloomer. Very early. And very, very blooming!

She had to say something, something to make things seem normal and not as strange as they felt. “Oh, Robin!” Alexis managed. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“I’m scared!” Robin said, and in the moment he did look rather vulnerable, clutching his forearms to his chest and with his big, pale blue eyes shining over the tops of his fists, looking suddenly very small. 

“Well, you just climb in here with me,” Alexis said. “You can snuggle up right here and you’ll be safe!” It seemed like the right thing to do - the motherly thing to do - and without all of Robin’s cocksure, bratty sass hiding his age, she really did feel sorry for the boy and want to comfort him. He slid up onto the bed - she watched that bulging, sausage-hiding shape in his boxers-briefs rub against the edge of the mattress as he swung his leg up - up close it seemed to be the size of one of her smaller handbags. But that couldn’t be right… could it? In the dimness it was impossible to be sure.

Robin scooted over next to her and put his head down on the pillow as he faced her, drawing his legs up and settling in cutely. For a moment, all was silent. Then, amazingly, she heard the boy’s breathing change to the unmistakable whisper of a snoozing child. Robin had climbed into bed, snuggled into the covers next to her, and dozed off immediately. Alexis couldn’t help but smile - it was just so  _ adorable _ . Instinctively she put out her hand to run it through and straighten his blonde hair, like she might do when doting over a sleeping Tim in his younger years, but stopped herself. That wouldn’t do, of course - Robin wasn’t even her child - but nonetheless she felt that same sense of motherly instinct coursing through her body.

Unsure of what to do with the restless energy inside her, she decided to shut her eyes and try to get some sleep. After only a moment, though, she felt a rustling in the sheets and heard a muffled, high-pitched moan… like a child having a nightmare! Robin, who seemed so fearless in all other ways, was having some trouble adapting to a new house. This time, she couldn’t resist turning on her side - her huge boobs piling one on top of the other - and reaching out to put a comforting hand on his arm. Now they were facing each other. “There, there,” she said, softly. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Robin seemed to be sleeping, but he wiggled and nuzzled closer in… reaching out for something comforting and finding her hip with his arm and pulling himself closer in until his chin was resting right on top of her breasts and her round, bulging udders were pressing up against his bare chest! The movement of the boy’s hand on her hip was rumbling her nightgown a little, pulling it up. 

“Oh my!” Alexis whispered to herself. Robin uttered a fearful moan and clung tighter to her. Her boobs smooshed up against his body and he drew himself even closer in. Hesitantly, Alexis brought her arm around Robin and put her hands on his slim, boyish hip as well, hugging him to her as he was reciprocating the same clinging pull, holding the much smaller human like her teenage self might have held a teddy bear. Her heart was beating a bit faster. Tim was always complaining about her excessive mothering - the hugs, the hair-straightening, the laying out of clothes, the advice on safety - and here was a boy who really was needing and seeking out her attention after she’d been increasingly rebuked for so many months. And it was making her feel… feel…

Alexis’ eyes went wide. She felt something poking up into her nightgown. The boy’s knee? No, it couldn’t be. The gown had bunched up around her thighs because of Robin’s hand, and something was snaking up the front of it and rubbing against the front of her panties and the plump, tingling curve of her mons and labia majora - what a less-dignified man might call her  _ mound _ . Seconds later, Robin shifted again, uttering another dreaming peep, and she felt it higher, skirting across her navel and pressing into the underside of her boobs! It wasn’t possible! What she was feeling was totally insane, but there seemed to be only one explanation.

The cute nine-year-old kid in her bed had an  _ enormous penis _ that had quickly grown erect! He was having a dream that wasn’t just scary, but sexy… or perhaps snuggling up with her had brought about the second aspect… and that bulge she had detected in his boxer-briefs had unfurled into a full-fledged meat bat! Alexis was forgetful and a bit of an airhead, but she wasn’t a total dummy. She knew that no boy should be able to have a cock that size. Why, to be hooked up under her gown and poking all the way up to the bottom of her boobs… it had to be a foot long.

_ And it was growing. _

She could feel a bit, hot, cylindrical shape pressing against the underside of her breasts and being directed into the channel between them as it tunneled, by degrees, relentlessly upward. Alexis did some quick mental math. The bulge had been impressive, but for a penis to begin just below her crotch, poking up into her nightgown, and reach all the way to nestle between her breasts… the size would have to be incredible! Her mind flashed back to the way that Robin had kissed her so aggressively under the mistletoe. To think, the whole time, he’d had a monster dick tucked away in his pants. She hadn’t even thought to look for a baguette-sized bulge in an elementary-schooler’s skinny jeans, but now she couldn’t stop imagining how he might have managed to tuck it away.

Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she squinted her eyes shut and bit it. Robin moaned out, still dreaming, clutching tighter. She felt that hot shape tunnel further up between her breasts - halfway up now - and then she felt a searing kiss of heat in that area - like droplets of hot water from a faucet. He was  _ leaking _ ! Was the boy so aroused that he was actually leaking pre-cum between her tits? What could he be dreaming about?

Alexis held him tight, now knowing what could happen next, not wanting to wake him and have the awkward situation embarrass them both. At least, that was what she told herself. In fact, there was something about her breasts handling every inch of this kid’s meat that was sinfully satisfying - as if she was a matronly match for him.  _ I bet his mother couldn’t do this _ , she thought, and immediately scolded herself for it.

Robin whimpered as if scared, and Alexis’ heart began beating faster. The heat in her chest started to build, and then, it happened. 

Alexis couldn’t help but gasp and cry out. She didn’t know whether to move, or how to react. She realized what was happening, but found herself paralyzed.

In the end, she did what came naturally.

* * *

When Tim first encountered his mother the next morning, Alexis was up early and putting the sheets from the master bedroom into the washing machine. When he found Robin merrily eating a full breakfast in the kitchen and looking rather satisfied with himself, he wondered why there was no breakfast for him. Robin told him to ‘stop being such a faggot’ and ask his mother if he was going to ‘be a pussy’ about it. So Tim had sought her out to ask the question, only to stop mid-sentence when he saw her appearance.

His mother tended to dress semi-sensibly. Of course, nothing could be done about the size of her breasts - all the underwire and blouses in the world couldn’t hide the fact that they were quadruple-M or some other ridiculous size. (Tim found bra sizes incomprehensible, and his mother had to special-order hers.) But other than that, she wore pantsuits, fairly modest blouses, and the occasional skirt with pantyhose. She wore flats or short heels, and her jewelry wasn’t too gaundy. Her hair was only styled for special occasions, she often kept it in a ponytail when they were around the house or about the town.

This morning, she was different. His mother seemed to be wearing clothes she hadn’t put on since her 20’s. She was wearing a skirt, but a shorter one than he’d ever seen - it cut off maybe two inches below the curve of her buttocks - and no pantyhose at all, leaving only her shapely bare legs to be seen. Her heels were at least twice the height as normal and made those legs seem extra-long, too. Her hair was down and wild, reaching the middle of her back and fanning out in feathered dagger shapes, and complemented with gold hoop earrings that were more ostentatious than her usual fare. 

When she turned in response to his question, Tim saw that she was wearing glossy lipstick that seemed much more daring than her usual natural shades. And that wasn’t even the most jarring part. His 39-year-old mom, who regularly brought baking to the church sales and volunteered at his school as a recess monitor, was wearing an honest-to-god tube midriff-baring tube top in which her enormous juggs were bulging like twin dirigibles. Nipples the size of overturned milk-saucers were poking out against the stretchy fabric and he could see her pleasingly smooth, slightly-plump belly area exposed between her top and skirt! And of course, her cleavage was completely out of control. She was half-stooped putting sheets in the wash and she had such a huge cleavage canyon it looked like he could take a running start, turn sideways in mid-air, and jump right in!

“Mom, what the heck are you wearing?” he blurted, and Alexis blushed a trifle guiltily. 

“Oh, I just felt like something a bit different today,” she said, cheerily, then shot a glance at her laundry basket, where more sodden sheets were waiting to be loaded. Tim saw her glance and raised an eyebrow.

“What, because of stupid Robin?” he asked, sticking his tongue out to show his displeasure. “Is that how his mom dresses or something? And, I noticed you didn’t even both to make me breakfast!” Tim sighed, then turned away and sulked. “You don’t even care about me at all! Robin is a jerk, mom. He makes fun of me all the time at school and you’re inviting him in and taking his side. Perfect Robin, nobody makes fun of him. But you can’t stop telling everyone when something is wrong with me-”

“Hold on!” Alexis said, and she did move to comfort him, stooping down and putting her hands on his shoulders with a concerned look on her face. “Tim, you might think Robin is this perfect boy who has no problems, but that’s just not true! He has things you could make fun of, things he could be teased for. He has difficulties of his own.”

Tim crossed his arms. “He does? Like what?” There was a twinkle of interest in his eyes that he hoped his mother couldn’t see. She seemed like, in an effort to bond with him, she might spill some beans about his rival that he could use to get the little brat to ease up a bit. And when Alexis lowered her voice and moved in closer, indicating what she was about to say was a private communication, his hope only grew. If it was a secret, Tim thought, it would be something really bad!

“Robin, he… he seems like a very confident boy. Strong, assertive, handsome… so I can see how you would think he’s better than you in every way-”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Mom, give me a break. I thought you said he had something wrong with him.”

“Not wrong!” Alexis insisted. “Just like it’s not wrong for you to have all your troubles. But Robin does have… challenges and difficulties, like you.” Her eyes seemed to gleam with the chance to rekindle the relationship with her son that had been slipping in the previous months. “Robin, he… he wets the bed.”

Tim kept his poker face with difficulty, but inside, he was absolutely thrilled! Bed-wetting! This was  _ perfect! _ Robin had been calling him a bitch, homo, faggot, and getting the other kids to pelt him with rocks for months, and the whole time, the little shit had been soaking his bedsheets like a little baby! Now, he could threaten Robin with that information, and get him to ease off.

“Wow, really?” Tim said, trying to look sympathetic when inside he was jumping with joy. “That’s… that’s really rough.” Then a realization bloomed in his brain. “Wait, those sheets, are they-”

“That’s right,” Alexis confirmed. “Now, please, don’t mention any of this to Robin. I’m only telling you so you can try to relate to him, and maybe the two of you can become friends.”

_ Fat chance of that, _ Tim thought.  _ I hate that brat _ . But he kept his expression even. He couldn’t help asking for more information. “So the guest room bed is all wet, huh?”

“Yes,” Alexis said, then her face looked a bit guilty again. “W-well, no. Actually, these are from the master bedroom.”

“But that’s your room,” Tim objected.

“Yes. That’s another thing about Robin, another challenge he has. He gets scared in new places. He had a nightmare.”

Tim was already formulating plans in his mind, weaponizing this news for his counterattack.  _ Yeah, keep making fun of me, twerp. But everyone knows you had to stay over at my place when your mom was out of town, and you got all scared and had a nightmare and had to ask my mommy to hold you and make it all better, and then you pissed right in your pants. _

“Wow,” Tim said, trying to sound respectful. “I never would have thought.” 

“He crawled into bed with me, and… this is another thing, Tim - Robin has physical challenges too. You might think he looks very cute and athletic-”

“I never said that,” Tim complained, but his mother barreled on.

“-but it’s like you and how we had to get you those braces, and the special shampoo for your dandruff, and those lifts for your fallen arches. Remember you were ashamed to go skinny-dipping with your friends because your penis hadn’t started developing yet?”

Tim rubbed his forehead with his hand and let out a sigh. His mom was getting wound up again. “Yes,” he said, his voice pained. “I remember. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Everyone has things about them, physically, that are unusual,” Alexis told him, and he could tell from her face that she considered it a hey motherly lesson to be imparted down. 

“What’s wrong with Robin?” Tim asked, wanting his mother to stop dwelling on all of his faults.

“Well - his penis is absolutely  _ huge _ !” his mother replied, and her voice had turned to a conspiratorial whisper. “I bet all the boys make fun of him for it… it’s so large, that while he was dreaming, it poked right up under my nightdress!”

Tim stared at his mother with wide eyes. “Wait,  _ under _ your nightdress?” he choked out, after a moment of astounded silence. “What was he doing under there? How do you know how big his penis is anyhow?”

“That’s when he wet the bed,” his mother went on, and her eyes had taken on a strange quality of reminiscence, as if she had gone very far away and was reliving the experience in her memory. “Can you imagine? A boy four years younger than you with a penis that reaches all the way from the hem of my nightdress to my chest? He must be so self-conscious about it-”

“Mom, I don’t… uh… I’m not sure that’s... “ Tim’s voice trailed off. He couldn’t find the words to explain what he was feeling. His mother was earnestly trying to make him feel better by pointing out Robin’s ‘faults’ but in her usual ditzy fashion, was failing to see the larger picture.

“I bet the other boys make fun of him. They probably call him ‘Dinosaur Dick’, or compare his penis to those big lengths of sausages you see at the supermarket,” Alexis went on, and her expression was one of lamentation, as if this was quite a cross for young Robin to bear. But there was a secondary quality as well, lurking underneath… that same quality of fond reminiscence that Tim had noticed before. While his mom was relaying this information, she was picturing Robin’s penis in her mind.

“His balls were like coconuts,” she suddenly blurted out. “He must absolutely soak his sheets in semen when he has wet dreams. It must be very difficult for his mother.”

Tim slapped his forehead. “Mom, how do you know that? What, did you check?”

Alexis gave him a reassuring glance. “That’s one area you have himi beat, isn’t it? You’ve never had a wet dream or shown any interest in women at all. I keep thinking one day I’ll find a big stain on your sheets, but you’re such a clean and courteous boy.” She put a hand on her shoulders. “And don’t worry about your balls being so small. God created all shapes and sizes. From Robin’s two foot monster to your thing that’s only an inch long.”

“Mom, you don’t have to tell me anymore about Robin,” Tim said. His initial delight was quickly fading as his mother continued to provide the epitome of too-much-information parental talks.

“He wet himself so badly, too,” she confided, and her eyes seemed misty with the memory. “I felt him poking up between my breasts, and-”

“Wait, he wet himself  _ on _ you?” Tim complained. That changed the picture in his mind considerably. He himself had been peed on as a prank before and the experience had certainly been more humiliating for the pee- _ ee _ than the pee- _ or _ .

“Gosh, it was like a fire hose,” his mother said, and her voice had turned into a sort of moan. Her free hand, not on his shoulder, seemed to subconsciously move to her breast and give her nipple a tweak. “I’ve never seen a boy piss so much. He was like a horse. My tits might as well have been a couple of  _ toilets _ considering how much piss he unloaded into them!” Her hand squeezed her large nipple through the tube top and she hissed out a tiny moan and bit her bottom lip lustfully.

“Mom-”

“I swear he pissed for five minutes straight,” Alexis went on. “He basically used me as a urinal, isn’t that embarrassing? I could feel that hot, thick stream spraying into my cleavage and soaking the mattress, and it smelled so strong, too. You know when we used to go to the animal farm, before your allergies made us stop? That’s what it smelled like.” She sighed contentedly and was silent for a moment.

Tim, who had been standing frozen, listening the unfolding revelation with a miserable expression, tried once again to quit with what meager information he could still use. “Anyway, I guess maybe I’ll go get breakfast-”

“I drank  _ so much _ of his piss, too,” Alexis confided, and this time Tim coughed and wheezed in utter shock, and had to pound his chest with his fist. “It tasted so bad… I bet the boys at school are always making fun of him,” she went on.

“Why would they make fun of him for _ that _ !?” Tim cried, but Alexis ignored him and went on, licking her lips as if she was remembering a fine vintage of wine she’d consumed with dinner.

“It was so strong it made my eyes water,” she went on. “And I just kept swallowing. I swallowed until my belly was full but he just kept pumping out more piss out of that huge nine-year-old kid cock! He fed me at least four liters of hot, steamy piss before I couldn’t swallow anymore!” She ran a hand over her midsection. “When it was over my belly was all swollen. I had to suck the last few drops out of his foreskin. You know he has a big, nasty foreskin? There’s another thing you don’t have to worry about, isn’t it, Tim?”

“I… uh…” Tim’s mind was whirling, he had no idea what to think or say.

“His foreskin is longer than your little dick,” Alexis stated, and Tim coughed anew. “Like, three times longer. I spent like half-an-hour just sucking it and cleaning it out with my tongue. It was so dirty.” Again she licked her lips. Her voice had taken on a very steamy quality itself, and she was subconsciously kneading her nipples as she recalled the events of the previous night. At last, after several seconds, she seemed to shake off whatever internal thought process was keeping her occupied and stood up straight, smoothing the ripples out of her tube top and tugging down on the edges of her skirt, which had been riding up. She was blushing deeply.

“A-anyway,” she stammered, “my point is, you shouldn’t be self-conscious, Tim. Robin probably has just as many things to be self-conscious about. His cock is ridiculously large, he pees way too much, and his foreskin is totally ridiculous.” He blinked and then put a finger to her chin. “Oh dear, did I say ‘cock’? I’m sorry, Time, I just got carried away. That’s a bad word. The proper term is penis.”

Tim just stared straight ahead. “Uh… yeah,” he recited, zombie-like. “Well… thanks for the… pep-talk, mom.” 

Alexis was once again her usual cheery self. “You’re welcome, dear,” she said. “Now, I suppose I should make you some breakfast as well.” She closed the door to the washing machine and set it running, then turned and began to ascend the stairs up from the cellar and laundry area, before turning back and adding. “He farts quite a bit as well,” Alexis added. “During the night I woke up at least three times because he was squatting over me and farting all over my face and tits! Imagine, a boy his age, having problems with flatulence!”

Then she turned and continued up the stairs, disappearing from sight.

Tim stood still a moment and then his shoulders slumped. His mom had always been really oblivious and out to lunch, but this took the cake. All of his plans to out Robin as a bedwetter were foiled. While he couldn’t quite articulate why, uncontrollable peeing wasn’t too embarrassing an accusation if you happened to be doing it on someone else’s mom. And any revelations about big penises and long foreskins, while strange, were likewise canceled out when it was his own mother who discovered it. Fetching a deep sigh, he walked up the stairs and emerged into the hallway adjacent the foyer, immediately catching sight of the hated mistletoe.

His heart skipped a beat. Robin was standing underneath it and looking at him with that maddening cat-that-caught-the-canary grin, flashing those somehow feral canines. He was wearing his skinny jeans again and a white tee, and of course after his mother’s revelation, Tim couldn’t help but look at Robin’s crotch and the round, obvious bulge there. It was a wonder he hadn’t noticed it before. It didn’t seem to be indicative of the two-foot length his mom had described, but that only meant the boy was a ‘grower’ in addition to being a ‘shower’. Meanwhile, Tim was neither.

“Hey Missus Hill!” Robin called out, beckoning her from the kitchen but keeping his eyes locked with Tims. “I’m under the mistletoe again! You gotta give me a kiss! That’s Christmas rules, right?”

“Come on, this is dumb!” Tim objected. “It’s a stupid rule anyway and it’s not even Christmas!” But despite his objections he heard the clank of pans on the stove being rearranged and his mother emerged right on cue in her tube-top and short skirt, clacking on the hardwood in her heels. Her tits bounced like twin watermelons and seemed ready to bound straight out of her top at any moment. Her nipples were hard - and it was easy to tell, because they were so large the tips stood out like the knobs on the washing machine she’d just used. More even. 

_ She’ll forget about my breakfast on the stove and it’ll be burned _ , Tim thought sourly. But soon that was the least of his objections, as Robin leaned forward and stuck out his tongue, and a look came over Alexis’ face that was scary in its instantaneous thirst for intimacy! She didn’t just bend forward to kiss Robin this time, she actually  _ squatted _ . Her big, round, matronly bubble butt cheeks bulged out as she spread her legs shoulder width apart and dipped down so her face was at Robin’s level. In order to do this she had to throw her skirt up on her hips, totally exposing herself… and for the first time, Tim saw that she was wearing different underwear too - nothing but a lace thong that all but disappeared between the twin globes of her huge ass! It was so risque and small that he could see her big, fat pussy lips protruding out around it, as if she was receiving a wedgie! And her asshole, that crinkled and intimate part that he had never seen in his life, was actually visible on either side of the thong as a rosy-pink colored circle!

The look on her face was like nothing Tim had ever seen. Her eyes were totally rapt with attention toward Robin, and her mouth elongated into a vacuum sucking shape that revealed her cheekbones as she snaked out her tongue and started making  _ slrrrp slrrrp slrrrp succc _ noises while sliding it all over Robin’s tongue. She licked and sucked his tongue, the corners of his mouth, she even ran her tongue over his nostrils and wiggled at the twin openings that marked the entrance to the blonde boy’s cute, slender nose. While doing so she made a low and humiliating sound, like someone trying to talk while receiving the tongue depressor from the family doctor.

Her eyes rolled back as she gave Robin’s tongue a blowjob, sucking with such fierceness that it actually drew the boy’s head forward. She put one hand in her hair and squeezed one of her enormous breasts with the other, actually pulling it out of her tube-top and letting it flop down like an udder as her thumb mauled her nipple, rubbing over it and depressing it in clockwise circles. It was the lewdest, nastiest, most slovenly kiss Tim could ever have imagined! It was more like a hog eating slop than a kiss, the farthest possible cry from a peck on the cheek.

“Mmm... “ Alexis moaned as she broke the kiss and panted like a dog with thick strands of saliva connecting her lips with Robin’s. Now it was Robin’s turn to grab  _ her _ hair, and he did, pulling her head back and then spitting in her mouth. 

“Mom, what the heck?” Tim cried out, standing paralyzed. It was like his mother was a different person! He was baffled, not knowing the full truth of what had transpired the fateful night before. Alexis had a deep need within her to nurture and service and indulge a young boy about Robin’s age, a compulsion tied up in the loneliness of her divorce and her need for both physical intimacy and to feel like her mothering had a purpose. The result - this completely lewd and nasty kiss - was hard for Tim to watch. Still, he also couldn’t bring himself to turn away from the emasculating train wreck. “Why are you-”

“Nnngh, it tastes so good!” she moaned, and then swallowed Robin’s saliva before looking sideways at Tim. “It’s… just being polite!” she said, her voice panting. “I’m just trying to make Robin feel at home!”

Then Robin spoke up. “Yeah! Now just watch while I make out with your mom, homo!” He had his usual cruel and mischievous grin, but in response to his insult, Alexis firmly put her hands on his shoulders and shook him slightly to gain his attention. 

“Robin!” she scolded. “You shouldn’t say such things to Tim! I won’t stand for it.” Her eyes had uncrossed themselves and she was actually earnest in her admonishment, Tim realized, which gave him a flicker of hope.

It was dashed when he saw that Robin knew just how to push her buttons. The younger blonde boy hung his head and pouted. “I’m sowwy, Miss Hill,” he sulked, in his most infantile voice. “I just get so sad because the boys make fun of me for having such a big dick and all, sometimes I can’t help but take it out on others!” He sighed. “But kissing you makes me feel all better!”

Tim furrowed his brow. “No they don’t!” he couldn’t help but object. “Nobody makes fun of you for that!”

But now his mother had turned back to him and shaking her finger. “Tim! I’m sure Robin has just a difficult time as you do, with your tiny penis.” Tim’s shoulders slumped. “You shouldn’t make light of the difficulty of others. I want you to apologize to Robin right now!” And absurd as it seemed to Tim, she actually meant it. Here his mother was, squatting, ass thrust out, one huge breast exposed, dolled up like a hooker and making out with his nine-year-old bully, drinking his spit… and telling  _ him _ to apologize for  _ his _ insensitivity! And of course, now that his mother wasn’t looking, Robin was wearing his usual maddening smile.

“I won’t!” Tim said, crossing his arms. He’d been pushed too far, and would go no farther! But whatever confrontation was forthcoming with his mom was interrupted when Robin took her by the hair, making her moan, and spit in her mouth some more, spitting over and over again until his spit was filling her mouth to the brim, and then turning her head back toward Tim. 

“Gargle it!” he instructed. “That’s the kinda special kiss I want!” And Alexis, her face dreamy and indulgent, did so, making the frothy saliva dance in her mouth before swallowing it down, making her throat bulge with the consumption of the sizzling mouthful. Once it was swallowed, she looked sternly at her son while catching her breath, her tits rising and falling, while still maintaining that lewd squatting position.

“Apologize, or I’m afraid I’ll have to ground you,” Alexis said, sternly. “I won’t accept you boys making fun of each other. Or accusing each other of lying.” She gasped as Robin gripped her head and took her back into a deep, sloppy, adult-on-child makeout session. She sucked and slurped and licked as their tongues tangled, and Tim’s shoulders sunk even more. Grounded?! No video games, no internet? It wasn’t fair!

“ _ I’msrry _ ,” he mumbled, hanging his head, trying to rush through it. He saw that twin rivulets of clear snot were running out of his mother’s nose as she slurped and sucked on Robin’s tongue with her elongated suckmouth. She moaned out with pleasure as she continued to service him, and Robin disengaged long enough to smirk at Tim.

“I didn’t hear ya,” he taunted. “Who are you apologizing to?” And her went back to making out with Alexis, gripping her head with two hands and doing whatever he wanted with his tongue, mashing their mouths together. The bulge in his jeans was getting bigger and bigger, too.

“I’m… I’m sorry Robin,” Tim forced himself to say. His mother let out an undulating moan that basically drowned him out, however, and he saw a sloppy, splattering burst of clear fluid shoot out from her crotch and soak the hardwood floor beneath. It was like she was pissing, but she was crying out with pleasure rather than relief. Her thong was totally soaked as a result, as another burst and then another sprayed from her nether regions and made even more of a mess. Meanwhile, Robin was groping and slapping her tits and pinching her nipples as they sucked face.

“I’m sorry, Robin!” Tim repeated again, just wanting to get it over with. And finally, after what seemed an eternity, Alexis and Robin separated and his mother shuddered and sunk down to her knees, out of breath, her face sticky with saliva. Both of her breasts were out of her tube top, which was wrapped around her midsection now.

“That’s… nnng… a good boy… Tim,” Alexis breathed, trying to collect herself. “Now you and Robin can be the best of friends!” Robin shot Tim a predictable knowing look, and from the kitchen, the scent of burnt bacon, eggs, and toast began to waft out. The smoke alarm went off, and Alexis’ eyes went wide as she was shaken from her boy-induced reverie. 

“Oh dear!” she gasped, scrambling up and nearly slipping in the puddle of sordid wetness she’d left behind from creaming herself. “Tim’s breakfast!” She stumbled onto the kitchen, feet slipping and sliding, leaving the two boys to stare at each other - Tim looking defeated, Robin looking confident.

“Enjoy your breakfast, bitch,” Robin mouthed, knowing that his transgression wouldn’t be audible over the blaring alarm.

Tim did not. He ate bitterly, scraping carbonized bread off of his toast until it was wafer thin, his plans to embarrass his rival about bedwetting only a distant memory. He had always been a rather cowardly boy, afraid of confrontation, but with the taste of his burnt-to-a-crisp bacon laying in his mouth like dirt, he made a resolution.

The next day, he was going to get rid of that stupid mistletoe.

* * *

Tim got up early the next morning. He was going to get the short ladder from the shed, the one the groundskeeper sometimes used to do yard work, and use it to cut down the mistletoe that was hanging high from the ceiling of the foyer. 

It had been difficult to sleep. He’d heard voices coming from his mother’s room, voices and noises. Robin had had another “nightmare”, it seemed, and had gone to sleep with her - Tim saw the shadow of his feet making the hallway light flicker as he moved by in the upstairs hall.

And then he’d heard them whispering on the wind, and the occasional rustle of bedcovers or the movement of the mattress. Against his better judgment he’d tiptoed down the hall and put his ear to the door of the master bedroom, and had detected Robin’s voice speaking to his mother in that familiar manipulative, innocent tone, with her gentle responses making the back and forth easy to follow.

_ I’m not gonna make fun of Tim anymore, Missus Hill. Pinkie swear. _

_ Well, that’s good, dear. Tim is a very delicate boy. He still cries all the time from the smallest things. _

_ I’m real sorry his penis is so tiny and probably won’t get bigger. _

_ Don’t worry about that, Robin. You have problems of your own, after all. You’re so brave, carrying on even though your penis is so big! _

_ How much bigger do you think mine is than his? _

_ Oh! It’s at least twenty times bigger. The head is as big as my two fists together! _

_ Does Tim ever shoot out white stuff from his? _

_ Oh, no. Not like you. _

Then the accelerated breathing and the light, audible slap of body on body contact, before another break and further whispered conversation:

_ Missus Hill, I get so scared at night, it would make me feel safe to suck on your boobs! _

_ Oh my! Well, I suppose that’s alright… oooh! You’re… sucking so hard! _

_ You’re like a cow, Missus Hill! Your big boobs are leaking a lot of milk! _

_ Robin! That’s not a very nice thing to say. I can’t help that… that… oooh! _

_ Let’s play a game! Make a mooing sound while I milk you like a cow! _

_ Robin, that’s silly… oh! Don’t look so disappointed. Alright, alright… _

And then Tim heard the sound of baying, desperate mooing, coming from his mother. Muffled by the bedroom door, sure, but still utterly unmistakable. The sounds started perfunctory but gained in volume and earnestness, and also attained a quality of horniness as Alexis took to the role of a milk-producing piece of livestock. Tim couldn’t see inside the bedroom, but the image took hold in his mind - his mother was on all fours, her huge teats hanging all the way down to the mattress… or not quite all the way down, because Robin was reaching in from the side and-

_ I’m gonna squirt the milk all over my dick! Then I want you to do that thing. You know what! _

_ Mooooooo! Nnnngh… oh, yes! I… used to use these boobs of mine… to nurse my son… but now I’ll suck my milk off your cock! Mooooooo! _

Then the quality of the sounds changed again, and his mother no longer had a voice - only a series of choking, glottal, gagging sounds that were wet and strained. That was when Tim walked away, not wanting to hear anymore. 

Now, with the ladder placed below the mistletoe, he started to ascend. Strange and embarrassing as things had become between his bully Robin and his mother Alexis, he could at least remove the mistletoe, in an act of cleanup long overdue, and remove that stupid kissing pretense at the very least. His legs, not quite adult-sized yet, trembled a little on the rungs, and he had to stop and steady himself on the second step, and then the fourth. At the top, the sixth step, he could be able to reach the mistletoe and pull it down.

Or so he thought. Upon arriving at the highest and most unsteady step, he found the ornament was right at the edge of his reach, tantalizingly close to his fingertips. He strained, extended his body, even went up on his tiptoes… and then found the ladder overbalancing sideways. “Whuh… whoa!” cried Tim, and he crashed to the ground, losing all of his wind and seeing stars. With blurred vision, he blinked his eyes open and took assessment. Nothing seemed broken, but he was a bit dazed.

Most maddening of all, the mistletoe, which had been hanging from a simple tack and string, was swaying from side to side, still dangling from the ceiling, taunting him.

“Oh no! Tim!” The familiar voice, and footsteps, proceeded his mother coming into view on one side, and looking down at him with concern. Her feet made no clacking noises, for on this morning she wasn’t wearing her heels. In fact, she wasn’t wearing clothes of any kind! Tim could see that her huge breasts were beaten black and blue, with dozens of starburst bruises and palm-prints, but Alexis made no sign that she cared or could feel any pain. And there was something else - her belly was swollen and perfectly round, as if pregnant, making her look piggish and slovenly as she squatted next to him and reached down to put a hand in his hair. 

“Tim, what were you thinking?” she went on. “You know your coordination is  _ terrible _ ! Why would you try to climb that ladder?” Tim was speechless, trying to process what he was seeing. As his mother completed her sentence, her eyes bugged out a little and then she put a hand to her mouth and stifled a large burp, exhaling a waft of her breath over him, breath that had a rather peculiar and unpleasant smell… like a swamp full of pennies and chlorine.

Now Robin appeared in his vision on the opposite side. The nine-year-old was standing arms crossed, looking down at him without pity, and he was just as naked, with his long, thick, grotesquely large cock hanging down nearly all the way to Tim’s body. “Jeez, what’d he do now?” Robin complained, and shot Alexis a look that said  _ your son sure is a dumbass, what are we going to do with him _ . “I guess Tim must not have much holiday spirit! Me, I love Christmas!”

_ No you don’t _ , Tim’s rattled brain objected, still with canaries floating around inside.  _ You said it was dumb the first time you saw it.  _

“Anyway, since the mistletoe is still up, you owe me a kiss, Missus Hill!” Robin said playfully, and Alexis blushed. “I want that special kiss I told you about last night!”

Alexis reached down to touch Tim’s shoulder as her son lay stunned from his fall. “Just sit tight, Tim. I’m just going to give Robin a kiss and then I’ll get a nice ice-pack for that head of yours. You gave yourself quite a knock, didn’t you?” As she was talking, Robin was turning around and bending over, sticking his cute, smooth rear end directly in her face. Alexis reached out and spread his buttocks, revealing the pink, hairless depression of his young asshole. 

“Robin wants to be a boxer,” she told Tim, importantly. “That’s why I let him punch my tits as much as he wanted this morning.”

“Your mom really likes it when I beat up her tits!” Robin insisted, looking down at Tim. “She was squirting hot sticky stuff out of her pussy the whole time! It made my dick get real big, so she had to make it get smaller again so I could train the right way!”

Alexis was dreamy-eyed as she recalled the events of the previous evening and that morning. “Mmm, yes,” she said. “I know you haven’t… developed… yet, Tim,” she moaned. “But boys like Robin… they need… relief… or it’s very distracting! So… I drank a lot of his semen!” She burped again, and then licked around her lips as she rubbed her sloshing, nasty cum belly. “It must have been at least four liters. Robin just stood on my boobs and shoved his penis in my mouth and shot it straight into my stomach!” Her bare pussy was dripping with the memory. “It was like he was trying to get my stomach pregnant!”

“And then since I was already way deep in your mom’s throat, I figured I’d take a piss too,” Robin explained, gesturing behind himself as he bent over. “I’m gonna feed your mom plenty of my pee and cum from now on and punch her tits every day too!”

“Mmm, thank you so much, darling!” Alexis cooed, her eyes turning into heart shapes as she groped and worshiped Robin’s young ass. “I’ll drink all of your piss and cum, and you can beat up my boobs as much as you like! Now… please, let me kiss you! We’re under the mistletoe after all!”

Tim let out a resigned, defeated moan. His mother leaned forward, spread Robin’s cute young ass and sealed her mouth around his asshole, moaning and making wet smacking noises as she drove her tongue inside, as deep as she could, and started slurping and licking the walls of his bowels, really cleaning him out with a deep and nasty rimjob. Saliva dripped down and splattered Tim’s shirt as his mom felched his bully’s elementary-school-aged shitter, sometimes hollowing her cheeks out as she wetly sucked ass, slurping that asspipe, licking taint, sometimes milking Robin’s long dick straight down.

“Mmm… yeah!” Robin seethed, through clenched teeth. “Your mom is eating my shit! She’s really sucking my ass! Take a good look, faggot!”

As he uttered the forbidden word, the rimjob stopped immediately and Alexis took on a scolding expression. “Robin!” she admonished. “What have I told you about calling Tim those sorts of names?” She was hot as a firecracker, cheeks flushed, hair wild, tits leaking milk and bruised, pussy soaked… but nonetheless she wouldn’t allow Robin to call Tim names. Tim only rolled his eyes.  _ That _ was where she drew the line?

Alexis slurped out Robin’s ass for nearly ten more minutes while Tim lay on the ground with a miserable expression. One thing was for sure - the way she was groping Robin’s buttocks, burying her face between his smooth cheeks, and moaning like a prostitute, she loved eating out the asshole of a nine-year-old boy. At about the eight minute-mark, he fingered herself to orgasm and moaned her climactic vituperations straight into his shitpipe. Whatever she had been before Robin’s arrival, her all-encompassing needs had made Alexis Hill into an ass-sucking, cum-burping, slit-squirting, tit-beaten  _ sow _ .

After the ten minute ass-kissing was complete, she was breathing hard, with strands of bubbly saliva connecting her mouth to Robin’s asshole. “Your ass tastes so amazing, Robin,” she cooed. “Thank you for beating my huge tits and letting me eat your shit!”

“Tell that other thing we talked about,” Robin prompted, and Alexis blinked and then seemed to recall something, and looked down at Tim again. 

“Oh yes!” she said. “Since you boys are getting along so well, Robin is going to visit every weekend from now on,” she decreed. “But he finds the master bedroom to be a bit scary. So he and I are going to sleep in your room, Tim.” She leaned in and winked at him while speaking  _ sotto voce _ : “I’m sorry if your bed ends up covered in piss… poor Robin does have a bed-wetting problem.”

Tim uttered a moan and closed his eyes. This year was just getting worse and worse. He was sure that, after eighteen or twenty-four months of indignities, he would reach his boiling point and stand up for himself. 

Maybe.


	2. Deleted Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Additional night time scenes from the original story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This story is a commission.)

_ Part 1: “He Took A Huge Piss All Over My Massive Tits!” _

When nine-year-old Robin started voiding his bladder directly into the snug valley between her breasts, Alexis Hill’s eyes went wide with the realization of what was happening. She was thirty years older than him, bulging with matronly vigor in both attitude and shape, and her breasts seemed to unfurl endlessly under her nightgown as she drew in a surprised breath. She had only let Robin crawl into bed with her because he, like a lot of boys his age, might be scared when staying the night at a new place. She knew exactly what was happening.

Her mind gave voice to what he mouth couldn’t, in the silence of the bedroom:  _ He’s wetting the bed! _ It did not occur to her that the boy could simply be pretending to be asleep; but she did know that the enormous, prodding penis that had snaked under the hem of her nightgown and up between her breasts as absolutely huge for a boy his age - huge for a male of any age, in fact. She could feel how big, heavy and meaty it was - it seemed impossible such a beefy tool could be attached to the body of such a cute young boy, but the evidence was pressing between her heavy boobs and unloading what seemed to be a gallon of hot, steaming piss!

Robin made a satisfied sound that seemed to indicate he was dreaming; and Alexis was struck again by her needful feelings; an uncontrollable desire to coddle and nurture him. The poor boy, blonde-haired and elfin-featured, no doubt would be intensely self-conscious about his night time emissions, and if she kicked up dickens and made a fuss, the only result would be additional emotional scarring at her hands.    
  
_ I just have to lay here _ , she resolved.  _ And take all of his piss between my tits!  _ The idea of coddling him, being a comforting and accepting oasis for his missteps where other adults might have scolded or yelled, made her beam with satisfaction. Besides… the sensation of hot, steaming piss blasting into her cleavage was, in the context of being accepting and loving, almost pleasant. The force of his piss-stream was amazing… which shouldn’t surprise her, she realized, since young Robin had a cock that was as big as a horse! It only took seconds before her entire chest seemed bathed in warmth, and the scent of his urine wafted strongly into her nose, which she couldn’t help but wrinkle.

Nnngh, his piss smells so strong! Her eyes began to water, and she knew that even though the room was dark, if she had been able to turn the bedside lamp on, she’d see that the boy’s piss was a dark, yellowish color that implied it carried an extra-animalistic stench. Robin groaned again and he reached out, as if feeling through the darkness in his dream - his hands pressed up against the dick-lifted hem of her nightdress and then explored underneath, finding her breasts. He cupped her huge, protruding nipples, each of which was hill-shaped, swollen, and as large as his young palm. He began to squeeze these, and that  _ did _ cause Alexis to whimper.

_ Just what sort of dream is he having!? _

Her breasts had always been extra sensitive, and the attentions of the boy, who she assumed to be all-unknowing in the sleepy manipulations of his fingers, were quickly making her upper body thrum with unwilling pleasure! Her nipples began to harden and raise even higher from the rest of her watermelon-sized jugs, and Robin instinctively grabbed them as if they were cow teats, pulling and kneading the porous, protruding jugg-nubbs and stretching her tits into torpedo shapes, the nightdress now lifted all the way up near her neck.

He pulled her boobs down and shifted his bottom up, and the spewing piss-spigot of his uncircumcised penis - scimitar-curved and enormous - emerged from the top of her cleavage and began to spray a finger-thick stream of steaming, stinking piss directly into her face. Alexis gasped, and then, in spite of the sordid circumstances, immediately stifled herself. To wake him up would utterly embarrass them both, and Robin would have a complex going forward, no doubt, having pissed directly into the face of an adult guardian while staying over for the weekend. Yet the way that huge, outpouring piss stream was soaking her features… she had to do something!

Alexis opened her mouth and began to let it fill up. She let the nine-year-old, hung boy’s steaming piss blast her tongue, teeth, and down her throat, filling her mouth to the brim… and then she swallowed. The stream was slightly splattery and uneven since the boy’s foreskin was so long and floppy, and occasionally it diverted entirely when the skin flopped down over his large and dilated pisshole - but mostly it stayed on target.

Alexis did what she now saw as her motherly duty, and started swallowing.  _ Gulp. Gulp. Gulp. _ She drank as quickly as she could, but no matter how much she consumed, her mouth seemed to fill up almost instantly with the sizzling, foaming, brain-meltingly  _ stinky _ issue of her hung nine-year-old bed partner. She dimly thought about how every bit of her mouth, throat, and tits was being marked by Robin’s enormous pissload; and the image came to mind of her stomach first filling, then expanding, a straining membrane wrapped around an ever-increasing deposit of golden liquid. Her hands went to the pleasingly chubby area just above her pubic mound, the wide and motherly midsection into which her tight panties sometimes cut deeply, and felt it begin to expand. She was becoming an elementary-schooler’s piss tank! She could not explain or dwell on exactly why the act of motherly service was so appealing… but her thoughts mirrored the words she would have said aloud if her mouth hadn’t been full to bursting with hot, steamy waste.

_ Yes, that’s it. Let it all out, darling. You’re such a good boy. Fill mommy up. Fill mommy up until she’s fit to burst. Those other boys would make fun of you for your huge penis and how much piss you can produce, but mommy will never judge you. Mommy will take all your piss! Do you like mommy’s breasts? You can use them as your toilet, any time you like! Just feed that big boy hose up in between mommy’s big fat titties and let loose until you don’t have a drop left! _

Her son Tim had been spurning her motherly doting for so long, she was projecting her need to nurture, serve, care for, and develop a young boy onto Robin, even though from all accounts the horse-cocked elementary schooler was the one who was beating up her son on a daily basis. She couldn’t help it. Robin was really a nice boy, she reasoned, just misunderstood, lashing out because he was self-conscious about his own huge penis, enormous flopping foreskin and rampant, explosive bedwetting!

Alexis was overwhelmed by the need to  _ take care  _ of him, to indulge him, to put her expansive, curvy 39-year-old MILF body at his disposal. _. _

She gasped out with need and squeezed her bulbous marshmallow-soft breasts around that thrumming shaft before she took hold of it with her hand for the first time, feeling the power of that piss-pipe as it continued to pump urine all over her. She aimed it roughly at the protruding tip of her nipple and pressed her breast against the spurting tip desperately. Instantly, the bulbous cockhead as encased it soft, pillowy titflesh, and she could feel his piss stream erupting directly into her now-inverted nipple, the overflow leaking out the sides as the boy’s waste pumped straight into the depression formed by his prong drilling deep into her soft boobmeat!

_ Yes! Piss-fuck mommy’s boobs all you like! That horse stream is so strong it’s like a vibrator on my nipples! It’s… it’s making me so wet! _ Alexis bit her lip to keep from moaning out and ‘waking’ the boy. A more observant woman would probably have noticed by that point that Robin was only pretending to be asleep, but Alexis was totally focused on handling the boy and didn’t suspect that Robin was very much enjoying the act of defiling every part of her body with his hot, saved-up piss. He had, in fact, consumed a full eight glasses of apple juice before tiptoeing to the door of her room that night. Now, that his half-hard boycock was pushed three inches deep into the depression formed by her inverted nipple, he found the plan to be working better than he could have ever anticipated.

“Yes… you can… piss-fuck mommy’s nipples… whenever you want…” she muttered softly to herself, grinding her thighs together deliciously. Internally she maintained the fragile pretense that she was only sparing a young houseguest some considerable embarrassment, but the heat between her legs told an additional story. “Piss all you like on my tits, on my face, down my throat… you can even piss in my pussy and up my ass!” Her voice didn’t rise even to a whisper, the words came out more in breath than syllables… but her inhale was audible as she felt a strong erogenous response in her nipple and switched breasts so the other one would enjoy the same treatment. How long had the boy been pissing? A minute? Two? Young Robin really was as healthy and virile as a horse, very much unlike her own son, Tim.

Once both nipples had helped bring her to a shameful, thigh-squeezing orgasm from the sheer force of piss being sprayed into them, she dipped her head down and pressed her lips against the boy’s spurting cockslit, wrapping her piss-soaked tits around his monstrous kid meat while she moaned and hollowed her cheeks out, her mouth contorting into an elongated, piss-vacuuming suckface as she chugged the last of his emissions straight from the source.  _ Gllug. Glllg. Ulllgk _ . Her throat swelled and contracted with each cheek-puffing mouthful of hot, steamy kid-piss. As she drank, she felt her belly swelling and lovingly cradled it, glad to be of use to the boy, glad to  _ mother _ him and take everything his overdeveloped penis had to feed her. Her mind flashed back to changing her son Tim when he would pee his diapers; it was a mother’s duty, and though Robin was a much more confident boy and his cock was twenty times the size that Tim’s had been, she felt the same sort of satisfaction in sacrificing herself to make him comfortable.

_ If he sleeps over again… I’ll just let him sleep with his cock in my pussy, she thought, her eyelids fluttering and piss leaking out of her stretched, elongated nostrils as her piss-sucking face got more and more degrading. Then, if he needs to, he can piss right into my pussy! I just want my whole body to be a toilet for a cute nine-year-old kid! If I showed him how swollen he’s making my belly right now, he’d probably think he got me pregnant! _

She swallowed nine, ten, eleven more times before the flow finally started to subside. The mattress was absolutely soaked and might even need to be replaced; but expenses and worried like these were far from Alexis’ mind. The experience of drinking nearly a gallon of Robin’s hot piss was the most fulfilling act of child care that Alexis had been able to enjoy even since her divorce. She pulled her mouth off of the boy’s cock with an audible, piss-speckled pop and slumped back against her pillow while Robin lay motionless next to her hip. Her hands wandered down to her belly and found it to be a big, degrading sphere, gurgling with piss.

_ I bet I look like I did when I was pregnant with Tim _ , she marveled. This boy even gave me the chance to experience that joyful event one more time! She stifled a sour burp and rubbed her degrading piss-gut, listening to the sloshing liquid inside her, then looked sideways down at Robin. The boy seemed to be sleeping, but…

_ Part 2: “I Ate So Much Of His Stinky Cock Cheese!” _

Even in the moonlit dimness of the master bedroom, Alexis could see that Robin’s foreskin had pulled back slightly from sliding up against her nipples and between her breasts. Now, she had to know. Reasoning it was for the good of the boy’s health, she reached at the bedside table and turned on the lamp at the lowest setting. Immediately in the makeup mirror she kept next to the bed, she saw what she had expected - after sucking the piss out of Robin’s cock, her mouth was flecked with whitish-yellow chunks of smegma, looking like a dusting of parmesan cheese.

_ Oh dear _ , she thought.  _ As if the boy didn’t have hardships enough - a cock that size, and with such a large foreskin, must be so difficult to clean. I bet his classmates make fun of him for his long, nasty foreskin and all of the cock filth that must get stuck inside. Kids these days can be so cruel! _

She put her hand to her mouth and brought her fingers back flecked with grime, put them near her nose, and inhaled. Her eyelids immediately fluttered. “Nnngh… it… stinks so bad!” she groaned, and she bit her lip and squeezed her thighs together. Something about the severity of the stench - the combination of musk, sweat, cum, and piss - made her body quiver. Robin was only an elementary-schooler, but he was obviously blooming early and had a muskier, dirtier,  _ stinkier _ dick than even the swarthiest of men, despite his lack of body hair!

The light of the lamp let her take a closer look at his dick as it lay draped over his skinny thigh. A true monster - well over a foot long, made to seem even more unnatural by the comparatively small stature of his body. She sat up and reached down gently to lift it and cooed at the heat and height of the smooth, floppy shaft. It was thicker than her arm, like handling a python at the zoo. His balls, laying between his thighs against the mattress, seemed as big as ostrich eggs. How could a little kid have so much  _ meat _ ? She didn’t know, but what was certain was that an unusual boy could easily grow up shy and self-conscious if not given the proper attention. And judging from the look of Robin’s foreskin-

She clutched the cock near the top and gently moved her hand down, peeling the skin back… to reveal an inch-thick coating of sludge wadded underneath his bulbous, mushroom-shaped glans! No wonder she’d had flecks of filth all over her mouth! The kid had an absolutely filthy cock that was loaded with yellowish-grey dick cheese! Alexis dry heaved and tried not to make noise as a brutal stench tore through her olfactories.

_God, it smells like rotten cum_ , she thought. _Like a hundred loaded condoms that have been baking in the sun for a week._ _But… but I mustn’t think that way about the boy. His mother hasn’t shown him how to properly clean it. So, it’s my responsibility to… to…_

She lowered her head down and brought up the boy’s meat to the level of her face. Extending her tongue, she pressed it against the thick corona of mess under Robin’s glans, feeling it actually push into the crud as if she were driving her tip into soft dirt, and gathered a dollop before bringing it back into her mouth. Mixing with her saliva, the chunky mess of filth quickly began to melt into a nasty mess of cum. Alexis closed her eyes. God, it tasted like shit! She had to chew the lumpy slop just to make it swallowable - and as she continued this act of oral service, she found her pussy was inexplicably even wetter than before.

She told herself what was essentially the truth.  _ I just… love taking care of young boys! I’ve been missing it for so long… I just… I just want to clean every drop of cock cheese off of Robin’s huge penis! With my mouth! It wouldn’t do to use a rag and soap - acting like he was dirty or bad. I have to show him that I accept all of him. _

She eventually swallowed the mix of smegma and saliva, and felt her head swim with the pure, musky dick stench that permeated her brain. For a kid to be this overpowering… it didn’t seem possible. Her work wasn’t close to done yet - the lumpy ring of filth was still mostly intact - but as she dipped her head down and opened her mouth, she saw Robin stir and open his eyes.    
  
“Miss Hill, what are you doing?” he asked, and his face had an overexaggerated look of confusion. “Don’t you know that place is dirty?” 

Alexis’ heart started beating a mile a minute. There she was, totally nude, her hair piss-plastered to her neck and back, her massive tits hanging low sow teats, taking care of a young kid’s huge, dirty penis with only her mouth! For a moment, she didn’t know what to say, but then snapped into parenting mode just as an awkward silence was about to begin.

“Oh! I… Robin, I saw that you have some-”

“You want to help me clean my dick?” the boy interrupted, his eyes looking hopeful. Inside, of course he was astounded at how easy the dumb bitch was to manipulate into doing whatever he wanted. “It’s so hard to clean it, and everyone makes fun of me! But… you don’t think it’s bad, do you, Miss Hill?”

Alexis put a hand to her chest as if the suggestion were the most offensive thing in the world. “O-oh! Of course not. It’s simply a natural, physical process - everyone gets a bit dirty, after all, and-”

“So you’ll clean all my cock cheese up with your mouth?” Robin said, hopefully. “Even if there’s a lot of it and it really stinks? I didn’t wash my cock ever since my mom said I was coming to stay with you guys, and I’ve been practicing my boxing a lot in the mornings, so I get all sweaty!” She cute boy stretched out on the piss-soaked mattress and sighed as if to say ‘aint life rough?’ “I’d bet it would feel so much better if it was clean!”

The course of action seemed clear to Alexis - she wasn’t going to let this poor, unwashed boy continue to suffer. Though she hadn’t detected it before, perhaps his household didn’t have easy access to running water, or other essentials, leaving him with no choice but to walk around each day with that enormous, musky cock just dripping with sweat and loaded with smegma! It would be irresponsible of her as an adult to allow the neglect to continue, now that he was in her house.

She leaned down and took hold of his cock with both hands, looking at him earnestly. “Don’t worry, Robin,” she assured him. “I’ll use my mouth to clean up all of your cock cheese!” She began to orally service him without shame, mashing her mouth against his unveiled cock-knob and paying extra attention to the underside of his glans, where the largest deposits were gathered, piling up big drafts of yellowish crud on her tongue and drawing it into her mouth.

“You should fill up your mouth with it,” Robin advised, reclining on his pillow. “Then I wouldn’t feel so bad about how dirty it is. You’ll do that, right?”

Alexis blushed, then nodded, moving her mouth back under his glans, keeping the accumulated smegma in her mouth instead of swallowing as she tended to him. She was feeling lightheaded at the brutal, musky stench that seemed to be penetrating all the way to her brain, but persevered, licking all the way around the shaft and under the rim of that big, pink, bulbous head, taking every bit of filth into her mouth.    
  
After a few minutes, she opened wide to show that the job was done. Her mouth was filled nearly to the brim with a mix of cock cheese and her own saliva, and just to demonstrate that she didn’t want to make the boy feel self-conscious, she used her fingers to shove the stray flecks and smudges of smegma from her cheeks and lips into her mouth as well. Then she closed her mouth and chewed, loudly and in exaggerated fashion. Her eyes watered and she nearly regurgitated at the nose-searing stink and the nasty taste of cum, piss, and sweat… but after ten seconds she opened her mouth to show Robin she was totally accepting of all his filth. She had licked him clean, chewed every bit of his smegma, and was holding it in her mouth.

“Go ahead and swallow,” he ordered, and she did so, with an exaggerated gulp, feeling a mix of revulsion and strange, submissive satisfaction. She knew it was rather embarrassing, but something about  _ taking care _ of that huge, pissing, cum-spewing, dirty cock made her quiver with excitement. It felt so motherly, and filled a void inside her as adroitly as any dick.

“I think I’ll come visit more often so you can suck my dick clean a lot more,” Robin offered. “You did a real good job, Miss Hill. Your real good at sucking kids’ cocks, huh?

“W-well-” Alexis started, blushing deeply. Something about Robin showing up weekly for a cock cleaning excited her greatly, though she knew it shouldn’t. 

“You can help me with my training, too,” Robin went on, ignoring her and looking up at the ceiling. “I have a heavy bag at home but the garage is real cramped and it gets too hot in the summer. So I could use you instead!”

“Use  _ me _ ?” Alexis said, confused. “But, how could I help you train?”

Robin smiled and put his hands behind his head as he told her. 

At first, Alexis gasped. Then, perhaps predictably given her indulgence so far, she agreed. 

“Before lunch then,” Robin ordered. “Tomorrow.” He was silent for a moment, then let out a deep yawn before reaching out to grope one of Alexis’ huge, bare tits. 

“Can I suck on your big fat boobs until I fall asleep?” he asked, though it was not really a request anymore. He had her wrapped around his little finger. “That would make me feel safe, since it’s a strange place and all.”

The bed was a king size. They shifted to the right side of the mattress, which was relatively unsoaked by his piss, and slept facing each other, with the boy’s penis between her breasts and her nipple stuffed into her mouth. He drifted off quickly, but Alexis was awake for far longer - thinking about what she had just agreed to, and what she had already done.

_ Part 3: “He Beat The Fuck Out Of My Cow Tits!” _

The next morning, after putting the soiled bed sheets into the laundry, Alexis went to the master bedroom, undressed, and waited for the boy to appear, as she had promised.

When Robin came into the room holding MMA-style gloves, wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs, Alexis was standing at the edge of the bed, totally nude and blushing deeply. In her haste to make the boy feel comfortable and at home, she had agreed to something that seemed rather ridiculous, even in light of the other indulgences she’d shown him the previous night.   
  
She had stripped naked again, per his instructions, but beyond that, she wasn’t sure what to do. Luckily, the boy seemed eager to direct her. “Okay,” he said, pulling on one of the gloves. Surely they had been special-ordered - they were just the right size for his small hands. “Spread your thighs and squat down on the balls of your feet, then put your hands behind your head.”

Alexis blushed and looked away. In the broad daylight of the morning, a pose like this seemed extra-lewd and inappropriate - she would be squatting like a stripper, with her pussy completely exposed and her enormous tits hanging exactly at the level that Robin could take his best shots. “A-alright,” she said. Despite her embarrassment she felt that familiar tingling in her body again, the feeling that came with sacrificing her own dignity and transgressing on social norms to prove to Robin that he could be comfortable and do as he liked in an unfamiliar place. She was, she reasoned, doing what a mother would do for any child having a difficult time. After all, without an outlet for his stress and aggression, a boy like Robin could turn to acting out violently. Her son Tim had already experienced the results!

Robin reached out and pushed against one of Alexis’ breasts experimentally, and his palm all but disappeared into the soft, pliant boob flesh. They really were enormous, and this squatting, arms-behind-head pose was exposing them completely as two huge, hanging bags of meat that were larger than basketballs… precisely the sort of thing a budding boxer might take a swing at. Every detail was on display. Her perfect fair skin, the nipples that seemed large enough to overwhelm the boy’s palm (and the raised, bumpy pores that ringed them) and the seldom-seen flesh of her underarms, with the barest hint of shaving stubble. Below, her pleasing MILF midsection with an appropriate amount of chub for her age, her wide hips… the dark tuft of her pubic hair (with the barely detectable hint of a trail headed up toward her belly button) and the salacious delta of her pussy. Her thick thighs lounged extravagantly on the back of her calf muscles as she held the position.

“Good,” Robin assessed. He smiled a wolfish grin. “You sure have huge boobs, Miss Hill.”    
  
Alexis blushed even more deeply. “W-well, yes,” she acquiesced. “Even since I was a girl I-”

“Make a stupid retard face,” Robin abruptly ordered, ignoring her.   
  
Alexis blinked. “W-what?”

“Cross your eyes and roll them back!” Robin insisted, and his voice was rising. “Geez, you’re dumb. I thought you wanted to help me, but I guess you’re just like all the other phony adults who only care about-”

“N-no! I can do it!” Alexis did her best to approximate what she believed the boy wanted. Her face, which usually alternated between a ditzy, good-natured smile and matronly concern, twitched as she rolled her eyes back and crossed them.

“Stick your tongue out and wiggle it around, stupid!” Robin insisted, and he gave one of her breasts a slap. The slight contact with her insanely sensitive tissue caused tingling shockwaves to echo through Alexis’ frame. She immediately obeyed his instructions. Her eyes rolled, her mouth stretched open, her tongue waggled out. Combined with the squatting, breast-thrusting, totally exposed status of her body, it was an utterly humiliating position!

This position is… so lewd, she thought. Much as she wanted to indulge Robin - she knew that a boy with such a huge penis had to have all manner of aggressive, conquering feelings that he needed to work out - she was starting to feel slightly self-conscious about the way her enormous milk tanks were swaying and hanging out in the open, the ripest of targets. Still, she had agreed. And, really, she reasoned, how hard could one nine-year-old boy hit?

WHOP!

Robin swung his hips and dug a perfectly-executed right hook into Alexis’ left breast. It was one of the moments for which slow-motion cameras had been invented, and a pity that no such device was present. But someone staring through the lens would have seen aa rippling, jiggling, fleshy impact that started like water on a pond and then continued as the boy’s gloved fist dug into the marshmallow-pliable flesh and caused the entire enormous boob to collapse inward before bouncing upward and then rebounding as the boy withdrew his hand.    
  
Alexis’ face also underwent a transformation - from nervous indulgence to wide-eyed, gasping alarm as the digging punch sent shockwaves through her nervous system. “Uwaaaagh!” she moaned, and she wobbled on the balls of her feet. 

WHUMP! Robin dipped his shoulder and blasted a straight left directly into Alexis’ right nipple. Unlike the swinging hook, this was a penetrating, mashing punch, and her huge breast caved in around his hand to an almost complete depth, until it could compress no more and his fist was almost at her ribcage, bulging out into a donut shape around the impact before, as with the previous, rebounding and jiggling. “Auuuugh!” Alexis cried.

“Wow, punching your big stupid fuck-juggs is way better than hitting my heavy bag at home!” Robin said, cracking his knuckles and beaming at her as her lower-lip trembled. “I should come over and do this every day!” 

Alexis was seeing stars. Her massive breasts and their extra-large nipples were extraordinarily sensitive - and Robin, who had obviously been practicing quite a bit, could punch way harder than she’d anticipated. After two punches, she was already ready to throw in the towel, and probably retreat to a private place, rub her fist-beaten breasts soothingly, and masturbate like mad. There was something about being a target for a young boy’s aggression - letting him take it out on her - that added to the experience. And, she reasoned, if Robin took out his frustrations on her, he would be less likely to beat up her less-than-physically-adroit son Tim. She would have to tell Tim about it, she decided, in exactly those terms. What mother wouldn’t take a tit-beating in order to spare her dear son the lash?

“W-well, I… I don’t know about every day-” Alexis stammered.

“Keeping making that stupid retard face!” Robin ordered, impatiently. “Nobody told you to talk. Stretch out your mouth and let your tongue hang out and roll your eyes. Make a peace sign with your hands!”

Alexis clumsily followed the boy’s drill-sergeant-like orders. Her mouth stretched out, her tongue hung obscenely. Her nostrils were stretched wide open and her eyes crossed. She held out both hands to the sides like a totem and put up two fingers on each. Then, once she was in her suitable position, Robin told her exactly what to say. But when she heard it, Alexis couldn’t help but hesitate.

This earned her a slapping, cheek-jiggling cunt punt from the boy’s agile leg. “Bwaaaaugh!” she groaned, as her phat pussy flaps were mashed against her pubic bone and her clit sizzled with stinging agony. The hamhocks of her MILFy thighs and bottom jostled and jiggled with the impact. It was everything she could do to hold her posture, and she nearly keeled over forward. Her face reddened, the pain making her look even more brainless, and it was a full thirty seconds before she was able to maintain her posture completely.

“Say it, you stupid cow!” Robin ordered again.

“P-please… beat the shit out of my big, fat cow tits!” Alexis said, and then took in a breath, elongated her lips and brayed out a humiliating “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”. Her eyes were watering from the pain and clear rivulets of snot were trailing down her nose and onto her upper lip. While usually a beautiful and unflappable woman, the boy had succeeded in making her look like nothing but a mooing, cross-eyed, braying  _ sex sow _ ! 

Just as her moo was tailing off, the beating began in earnest. Robin went into a whirlwind of activity, throwing punched from all angles, clubbing and pounding on Alexis’ huge watermelon fuck-juggs with all the power his young, lithe body could muster. His enormous cock, satcheled in the front of his boxer briefs, bounced and bounded in a package as his feet danced across the hardwood. He came from all angles, alternately battering her titmeat with rapid-fire punches and drilling her with penetrating, wind-up blows that sent thuds through her body and almost knocked her over. And through it all, Alexis could only do was instructed - which was to stay in place, keep her face looking as stupid as she could, roll her eyes, and moo like a cow.

Her pussy, responding to the brutal tit-beating, was completely soaked! Absorbing all of the boy’s aggression, both emotional and physical, was something that affected her on an elemental level. Her ovaries tingling, her womb quivering, her most sacred physical processes on orgasmic overdrive as her tits were beaten black and blue by a cute nine-year-old kid! After the first five minutes, the purplish welts were rising everywhere, and by the ten minute mark of continuous punching, both of her breasts were absolutely covered in darkening welts that sometimes even had the outline of the boy’s knuckles visible in their patterns. He called her a stupid cow and a whore, told her she was a piece of shit who loved chugging piss and cleaning an elementary-schoolers smelly cock cheese, and kicked her in the cunt repeatedly when he wasn’t pummeling her sensitive fuck-juggs. 

Eventually, breathing hard, Robin took a breather and Alexis keeled over forward, shudding to the humiliation-gasm of her life. This kid truly was a bully, one with lots of issues - and this form of ‘therapy’ was driving her body wild! Her enormous funbags were beaten to shit, and in the midst of the assault, her brain had started to process the pain as pleasure! There was no denying it - she  _ loved _ being Robin’s sow and servicing both the outsized and vicious whims of his temperament, and his outsized cock!

It was the motherly role she had been missing.

“From now on I’m going to come over here and beat up your big fat tits every day,” Robin confirmed. He had worked up a good sweat by using Alexis’ boobs as a heavy bag, and now stood over her, looking down at her with disdain, while removing his gloves.

“Y-yes!” Alexis moaned, her trembling hands clutching at the floor. She was keeled over forward, her huge, bruised-up fuck juggs piling on the hardwood in drifts. “Please, beat my tits as much as you like! You can… you can  _ stomp _ on them if you want to!” The idea, which would have once given her pause, now seemed delicious. 

Robin smiled at that idea. “Turn over!” he ordered, nudging Alexis’ side with his foot. “Lay on your back!” She scrambled pathetically to oblige him, her thick 39-year-old MILF body rolling like meat on a cutting board. Once she had attained the position, with her welt-covered breasts poised on top, she kept them in position by rolling her shoulders forward and putting her arms on either side.

Robin climbed up on the bed and took an experimental bounce, then another. He looked very much in his element as he bounded joyfully, and Alexis was struck by how a mischievous boy like him seemed perfectly suited to bounding on mattresses, as if it was some child’s right of passage. Then, he took an extra large jump off the edge, and his feet descended.

WHUMP! He landed with all of his weight, one foot on each battered breast, his feet flattening them out against her ribcage and sinking in as far as they could go. Alexis gasped out and her back arched upward as her buttocks tensed; she was overwhelmed by the brain-melting pleasure and pain of her sensitive, beaten tits being brutally stomped! A hot lance of lube flew from her pussy and squirted all over the floor, and her toes were left twitching as her eyes rolled back in her head and her tongue lolled out.

“T-thank you for stomping on my c-cow titssss…” she moaned, shuddering beneath him, and Robin smiled, crossed his arms impishly, and let a long runner of spit pour from his mouth and onto her unblinking face. Lost in a motherly, hedonistic fantasy, she didn’t even react.

He was looking forward to repeating that morning’s training - and doing far more - as the days progressed.


End file.
